


With Extra Colours

by akraia



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, MFMM Year of Quotes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 07:42:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14444586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akraia/pseuds/akraia
Summary: Phryne has taken many a dangerous journey in her time. But few have made her as nervous as coming back to Melbourne with Jack.Written for the MFMM Year of Quotes April prompt:“Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.”–A Hat Full of Sky, Terry Pratchett





	With Extra Colours

It was three in the morning, and Phryne was awake. This was unusual in that it wasn't dancing, a spot of nocturnal investigating or an attentive lover keeping her awake: infuriatingly and wholly unnecessarily, Miss Phryne Fisher was having the jitters, and she didn't like it one bit. She sat up in her rumpled bed, turned on the light and irritably lit herself a gasper.

It didn't have anything to do with being on a ship. The MS  _Amphitrite_ was a big, reliable vessel, Phryne's First Class cabin clean and spacious, and anyway she had spent enough time on ships during the last few months to be comfortable with a variety of marine conditions, not to mention the calm waters the MS  _Amphitrite_ was gliding through tonight. 

Nor did it have anything to do with the events of the past few months as such. Admittedly, flying her father from Australia to England had been taxing – the conditions of the flight almost as much as her father's unfailing ability to make her want to brain him with a spanner – and setting her parents' finances in order was far from Phryne's idea of fun . 

But then, just before Christmas, Jack had come to London, and the following events had taken a far more enjoyable turn. They had spent time in London, taken a few trips to the countryside, then gone travelling southwards through Europe, making the most of the months of leave Jack had managed to wheedle out of his superiors. Phryne's trusty Gipsy Moth was now on her way back to Australia by cargo vessel, and in Marseilles Phryne and Jack had boarded the MS  _Amphitrite_ bound for Melbourne, b y way of  Port Said, Aden, Bombay, Colombo, Fremantle and Adelaide. 

The sea voyage back home, like the rest of their travels, had been lovely. The first few days after Jack's arrival in London had been strange, neither of them sure how to approach this new situation, how to deal with implicit fears and expectations. But these obstacles had been cleared, and their time of travel had brought new depths to their relationship. That time, however, was coming to an end; tomorrow they would reach Melbourne. The thought made her stomach give an unpleasant jolt, and she stubbed out her cigarette with more force than entirely necessary.

Jack and her had got together – really together – in London, in cottages in the Lake District and the Scottish borders, on their journey through former battlefields and heart-stoppingly beautiful landscapes in France and the Alps and Northern Italy. Melbourne still was the place of uncertainties and misunderstandings and interrupting relatives. Phryne didn't have much experience with subjecting a relationship to a new set of circumstances, and while she was prepared to fight a whole army of disapproving Aunt Prudences, the sheer unfamiliarity of the situation made her heart sink.

“I am being perfectly unreasonable,” she told herself, firmly and aloud, “which is no surprise, lying in bed for hours unable to sleep instead of doing something constructive with my time.”

Phryne got out of bed, put on coat and shoes, shoved her cigarette case, lighter and a handful of chocolates into her coat pocket and left her cabin. Under normal circumstances, she would have bent her steps towards Jack's cabin in search of company and some peace of mind. But they had agreed to spend their last night onboard in their separate cabins, and while Phryne didn't think Jack would mind her visiting – at least, she thought with a smile, he hadn't ever minded before – she didn't want to burden him with her ridiculous bout of nerves. The last thing she wanted was for him to think that she was having second thoughts about their relationship.

Phryne walked through deserted corridors, up some flights of stairs, and emerged into the breezy darkness of the promenade deck. It was lit sparingly by a few lanterns, and she stood for a moment, letting her eyes adjust. Then she lit another cigarette in the shelter of her cupped hand and slowly walked along deck. She felt instantly better in the fresh air, the cold wind blowing over her face and ruffling her hair, alleviating her worries. Really, there was nothing to worry  _about_ . She was fully invested in her relationship with Jack, and she knew he was as well. Any other circumstances weren't in their power anyway.

The thought had just given her whirling mind some peace when she spotted a lone figure a few yards ahead, leaning against the ship's rail. The shape of the head and the square shoulders was familiar, and she smiled as she walked up to him.

“Hello, stranger.” 

Jack gave a start, more surprise than fright, but relaxed and smiled when he recognised her. The fact that she had managed to sneak up on him filled Phryne with a childish joy.

“Fancy meeting you here, Miss Fisher.”

The full deep sound of his voice and the use of the endearment – which it had become, long ago – sent tingles all along her spine, and she leaned against the rail next to him, sheltering her gasper against the breeze with her hand.

“Couldn't sleep?”, she asked. 

He half-shrugged, making a dismissive noise, which Phryne interpreted to the effect that he hadn't been able to sleep but didn't particularly care. One of the things she had learnt about him during their journey was that he was prone to nightmares; but a side-glance at him showed neither the vacant look in the eyes nor the pale drawn face that followed these episodes.

He caught her look and smiled.

“And you? What's keeping you from your bed?” 

“An inability to fall asleep in it,” she retorted, and he chuckled. 

They stood looking out into the darkness beyond the ship, the water below them a churning black mass, crowned with white foam. Phryne stubbed out her cigarette on the rail, put away the cigarette holder and let the butt be carried away by the wind.

Jack tsk-ed. “Littering. Naughty.”

“Dreadfully sorry, Inspector.” She produced a chocolate from her pocket and held it out to him. “Forget all about it for a Hazelnut Swirl?” 

He grinned, teeth a white flash in the dark.

“Bribery, as well,” he said, but took the chocolate anyway. She watched him unwrap it, pop the chocolate into his mouth and the wrapper into his coat pocket like a good citizen. His habits and mannerisms were becoming familiar to her, and for the first time in her life Phryne did not find this terrifying.

Journeys had always marked points of major change in her life, she reflected as she meditatively unwrapped and ate a Toffee Charm: travelling to England for the first time, running away to France to leave a stifling, predetermined existence, returning to Australia to stop her parents pushing dull marriageable men on her. She had set out on this latest journey on her own; now she was returning with Jack. This, together with the fact that he had actually come after her, was testament to the change this journey had brought upon them. Phryne smiled. Melbourne might still be the same when they returned, but the two of them certainly weren't.

She came out of her thoughts to find Jack watching her.

“You look like you're pondering very serious matters for this time of night,” he said.

She threaded her arm through his, sneaking her empty wrapper into his pocket.

“Serious, maybe,” she said, “but also pleasant.”

He smiled. She was close enough to see the twinkle in his eye.

“Oh yes? Like what?”

“Like the fact that I am here right now, and you are, too. And how delightfully unlikely that is.”

“I share that sentiment,” said Jack, and inclined his head to press a soft kiss to her lips, tasting like chocolate and salt spray and home.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I do not know if Hazelnut Swirl and Toffee Charm were part of the Cadbury Milk Tray in 1930. But I figured Phryne and Jack would enjoy them :D


End file.
